| The alarm clock met the floor again, as Derrick had no intention of rising. Senioritis had kicked in, and he had absolutely no motivation to move from his bed�ever�as far as he was concerned. He yanked the green plaid blanket from the floor and threw it over his head. A vicious knocking in chorus with the doorbell ringing louder than church bells, stirred him again. Defeated, he reluctantly grabbed some pants from the floor and put them on. He limped over to the door, still half asleep and picked up his rectangle frame glasses from the table. They were buried in remnants of a movie fest from the previous night. Derrick looked in the mirror, morning had maimed him beyond recognition, and he ran his hands through his fading hair. He opened the door to an entourage of friends. They did this once in a while, they�d show up at his house when he didn�t show up for school, but he was in no mood for it today. Kayla drove them all here in her land barge, also known as her parents suburban. She didn�t mind much, she was just glad she had a car to drive, period. So what if it was a mini bus? �Morning Derrick, time to get dressed and go to school.� Kayla said leading the pack into his living room. �But I haven�t gone the other three days this week, why start now?� He rubbed his sleepy eyes. �You have to go. We came ALL the way here.� Explained Sam. Five girls bugging you can really get on your nerves. They threw in their two cents on the matter as if it were going for charity, and not just Derrick�s well being. He felt like a charity. Most of his friends were girls, with no real known reason. Everyone thought he was gay because of it, even his own girlfriend, who wasn�t really friends with the group often, wondered. Reminded him of the eel�s concert the other night. Wandering about New York City, through the subways. He eyed a nice catch. They were two strapping young males with a childish maturity about them. Trekking slowly behind his girlfriend, he oh-so-casually turned towards the young men. �Derrick!� She had yanked his hand. �What?� He modestly replied. �I�m allowed to look.� Derrick snickered thinking about those lithe young men begging for a chase. The girls took up the couches, and began to clean up a little, as it was their mess from last night. Derrick had the DVD player so they watched movies at his house a lot. They plopped down on the beige couches one by one like drops of water into a puddle. Sam melted into Kayla�s lap to sleep. Her long reddish hair engulfed her unconscious state, in a sort of artificial comfort. Derrick stumbled into the bathroom and globed some gel into his mess of reddish hair that was beginning to resemble a poorly assembled birds nest. He examined his reflection; splashed some water onto his face then let it drizzle back into the basin from the crevices of his face. It felt like a scence from memento. Cut. Go. Wash. Done. Done? Yes. Perhaps he should write this down. Eh, he felt he wasn�t musey enough. His mind ran marathons with the likes of Tom Robbins and other literary genius� he didn�t give the time of day. Eyes closed, he searched for a towel to get the soap out of his eyes, and found a used pink one on the hook next to the mirror. Cut to Derrick�s room. He searches through the piles of clothes he just washed on his floor, inhales the laundry detergent. Yum, summer breeze, he slid the cold pants on his sleep coated body; they felt like a disease trying to break his skin. He dove back into the clothes pile, red matches with blue right? Eh, patriotic perhaps, or just not caring. They were all tee shirts anyway. His whole wardrobe, tee shirts and pants, that�s it. No jeans, no sweaters, just tee shirts and pants, in assorted colors. He went back down the stairs and heard his friends giggling in the basement, awaiting him. �C�mon Derrickbaker!!!� Melanie yelled his name as if it were all one syllable, one accepted name. She was the most rambunctious of the whole group. �Ready now?� She finished, jumping up besides him, bouncing like a Christmas present hungry child. �Meh� He uttered, with no interest for this school business. Again he desperately glared into the mirror, running his hands through his hair vigorously, as if it would correct the horrible haircut he let Sarah inflict upon him last week. �If I mess it up enough,� he often tried to explain �it starts to look fine, or better, or increasingly worse.� School. He was fine burying himself in his concert remnant-clad room. A rectangular room, covered in rectangular posters, square CD cases stacked to one side, next a dresser, with a few appealing light structures he had picked up here and there. His desk was covered in papers with little to no importance, but it contributed to the busy look of organization he was going for. They piled into Kayla�s land barge one after the other like obedient little children, that they clearly weren�t. Merry was pulling her typical act of �me me me�. Derrick was in no mood to tolerate the girl lately. She was short, and thin, and had long black hair, and dark framed librarian- like glasses; although, librarians rarely wore glasses like those. Her typical attire just broadened the extent of Derricks, incorporating jeans and tee shirts. �In going to see him fifth period today. I bet he can�t wait to see me.� Him was the student teacher she was in love with. * When they pulled up to school Kayla parked her bus, car, whatever, in the back parking lot, all the good spots were taken par normal. The rat pack of �artsy� kids walked up through the semi-circle and into the front door. Derrick, the token guy, par normal. Their high school looked like you�re high school right out or sweet valley high or some other show of suburban bliss. With royal blue letters neatly displaying the school proudly, yet discreetly, above the front door. Like most high schools though, a lot of parts were in sore need of updating from those retro seventies rustish tones that seemed to take over all long island high schools. Derrick often wondered if they had a big remodeling fest that decade. They all parted to their respective classes, and derrick was on his own to go late to Heller�s English class. Feeling overwhelmed by superiority he moseyed in, no big deal. Taking his seat mid-way to the back, in-between the slackers and the suckups. There was no way to categorize a character like him. �Well, isn�t it nice of you to show up Mr. Baker.� Wedged in between middle aged and senior citizen Mr. Heller sat. Choosing the sweater vests of the later, and the intelligence of the former. But at least he could appreciate Derrick�s presence, whenever he decided to grace him with it. �More pressing things to attend to.� Derrick grinned devilishly at him. |
| Unfinished, Matt story. Only, Derrick, not matt but still him. |